4 comments:

Don't get me wrong, I love a wall of flesh falling on me as much as the next girl, but it is funny how things have changed. I remember when Semana Santa was a serious business. There was very little TV, and the radio played only classical music (you know, "musica de muertos," so was our education). They even played opera, even if it was happy. I guess they figured all those people screaming in a foreign language was sad. The whole week was a somber affair. I tell you, my great grandmother would have a conniption fit. Of course, after she recovered, she would be volunteering for oiling services. Have a great week everyone.Ramon FigueroaJackson, Mississippi

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Former New Yorker (Harlem!) living in Santo Domingo. I moved here in January 2004. I'm just following my dream of being my own boss and looking forward to the journey of where life takes me next. This blog documents the journey, warts and all. I want to encourage people to seek out a life that makes you happy.

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